


203: A Token of Affection

by harlequin (julie)



Series: Season 2 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-04
Updated: 2009-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin tries to reassure Arthur about his relationship with Morgana, by offering a token of his affection to the prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	203: A Token of Affection

♦

It was late, but the moon was full, and Merlin knew where he was going. He headed through the courtyard and out of the castle at a brisk walk, and then broke into an easy trot as he wound his way down through the town. The larger training field stretched flat and empty, with a few trails of mist blue–grey against the darker grass. He trod a little more carefully through the bordering trees and undergrowth, crossed a meadow, and followed the burbling sound of the brook down to where the flowers he wanted grew strewn along the banks. Of course the night had drained everything to blue–greys, but Merlin could see the flowers in his mind’s eye, with dark red petals and bold yellow stamens capturing something of the sunlight. The colours of Camelot. The blood and gold of the Pendragon crest.

Merlin smiled, and crouched down by the thick reeds, carefully taking only one stem from each plant. When he was done, he had two thick handfuls. He knelt there in the cooling air, and bound the flowers together carefully with a bright crimson ribbon he’d borrowed from Gwen. Then he headed back up to the castle, to the prince’s rooms. To Arthur.

♦

Arthur was sitting at the table with his chin resting on one hand and his elbow propped on the arm of the chair, lost in pensive thought. He hardly even seemed to notice when Merlin came in – so Merlin went to find the precious old Roman glass vase in which Arthur carelessly kept his falconry hoods, bells and jesses, emptied it into a platter, then filled it with water and the flowers, arranging the ribbon as artfully as he could so that its tails hung down the sides. He took it over to the table, and placed it near the prince. Knelt at his feet. ‘Sire…’ Merlin whispered.

‘Mmm…?’ Arthur didn’t even blink.

‘Arthur…’

‘Yes,’ he finally answered a bit impatiently. ‘What is it?’

Merlin grinned up at him. ‘I brought you flowers, sire. As you asked.’

Arthur glanced at the offering, then turned a little to contemplate it.

‘A token of my affection.’

Arthur’s gaze slowly made its way back across the table and down to meet Merlin’s.

‘You don’t have to worry about me and Lady Morgana, sire,’ Merlin continued lightly though sincerely.

‘Do I not?’

‘No, Arthur. You don’t.’ Merlin laid a reassuring hand on Arthur’s thigh. ‘You really don’t.’

Arthur grunted a little. ‘I should worry about _her_. These visits to her rooms, Merlin. It’s most improper, especially without Guinevere – Gwen – without her maid there. As you very well know.’

‘Sire, Morgana and I are friends, nothing more. I promise.’

‘I would think so!’ Arthur retorted. ‘But it’s the appearance of the thing, Merlin. I am her – well, her brother. Or as good as. I have a concern for her honour. Her happiness.’

‘We are _friends_ , sire.’

Arthur favoured him with a dark look. ‘You want more than that, though – don’t you? Who wouldn’t? But you can’t, you know. You just _can’t_. You can’t even be friends. Not real friends. You should know that already. It’s impossible.’

Merlin lifted his other hand, and pushed both palms up Arthur’s thighs. ‘Arthur… _my lord_ … please,’ he said in a low warm tone. ‘Please don’t worry about it. I don’t want the things you’re assuming. I really don’t.’

After a moment, Arthur looked down at him again – looked at him properly as if really seeing Merlin for the first time that night. ‘Don’t you?’ he asked quietly.

‘No.’ Merlin smiled, letting his mouth quirk a little, and he said, ‘Can we start all that again? D’you mind?’

A slight shrug. But at least Arthur’s attention was on Merlin now.

‘I brought you flowers, sire,’ Merlin softly repeated. ‘A small token of my great affection for you… my lord.’

Even Arthur’s smile quirked then. He let his hand shape itself to the top of Merlin’s head, run back down over his hair, cup his nape. Eventually Arthur said, ‘Thank you.’

Merlin’s smile widened. ‘Shall I get you ready for bed, sire?’

Arthur’s attention seemed to drift away again for a moment. But then when it returned, he was wholly focussed on Merlin. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Why not? Why not indeed.’

Merlin sat back on his heels, and bent to wrestle the prince’s boots off. And the two of them fell into the familiar rhythm, the give and the take, of undressing Arthur.

Something had changed, certainly within Arthur, perhaps within Merlin. So when Merlin was naked and straddling Arthur on all fours, he bent his head and simply pressed a kiss to the royal cock. Shifted a little up Arthur’s body, and pressed a kiss to his stomach just above the thick dark–gold curls. Shifted again and began trailing kisses up Arthur’s breastbone.

‘Merlin…’ Arthur said warily.

‘Mmm…?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Bestowing –’ a kiss to the hollow at the base of Arthur’s throat – ‘more tokens –’ then following the line of his collarbone – ‘of my –’ until he could mouth and gnaw at the hard round strength of the prince’s shoulder – ‘affection.’

‘That’s really not necessary, Merlin. Just get on with the usual, would –’

Merlin had shifted again, and their cocks clashed, then as the prince groaned Merlin leaned in close and met Arthur’s lips with his own. They kissed hungrily, and Arthur’s hands came up to grasp Merlin’s rather narrower shoulders, holding him in place. Merlin let his knees slide back on the sheets, so that suddenly his body was pressed down against Arthur’s, and they moved together with an instinct so wise that it cut right through their ignorance. ‘Arthur…’ Merlin moaned as the prince began planting kisses on his cheekbones, on his temple, then down round to his chin. ‘Arthur…’

One of Arthur’s hands was cupping his head again, keeping him close with a full caress. The other ran down his back, fingertips tracing the alternating knobs and hollows of his backbone. Then the prince’s arm secured itself around Merlin’s waist – Arthur rose as if surfacing from deep water – and Merlin was thrown onto his back, Arthur following him over, settling between Merlin’s thighs. ‘Merlin?’ Arthur grunted, face buried against Merlin’s throat.

‘Yes. Yes. Anything –’ They’d never done it like this before. Never. But he found his legs were already winding around the prince’s waist, his hips were already tilting to find the right angle. They were clumsy, and they didn’t quite connect. Arthur almost pulled away when Merlin growled in pain, but Merlin’s hands clutched hard at him – ‘Please. Arthur. Please. I promise. Anything –’ and when they tried again, Merlin curled up a little more, Arthur canted his own hips further – and then Arthur was pushing inside Merlin, his breath loud and ragged.

Arthur’s arm still around Merlin’s waist, holding him up – the other under his shoulder, his hand hooked there to keep Merlin still as he thrust relentlessly. _‘God…’_ the prince groaned, closing his eyes, letting his forehead fall to graze against Merlin’s chest with each move. ‘God… god _damn_ it…’

Merlin lay there, taking it, revelling in it. He didn’t reach for himself. His own climax seemed almost irrelevant in these moments. He loved – he _loved_ this.

The prince’s breath was coming harsh now, and he was groaning a little as if struggling with something, wrestling within himself. He lasted… far longer than Merlin would have thought possible. But then eventually he cried out, and he was shoving himself home, Merlin bent up hard below him. ‘God… god, _please_ …’

‘Arthur,’ Merlin murmured as the prince finally withdrew, clumsy after all that effort expended. Drained.

‘Merlin…’ Despite everything, despite his breath still gusting raggedly, Arthur reached down to wrap Merlin’s cock in a practised hand, to trigger his pleasure with a few knowing moves. ‘Ssshhh… Hush, Merlin,’ he murmured as Merlin shouted again and again in the throes of his completion.

‘Fuck. _Fuck. Arthur!_ ’

‘Ssshhh…’ Hands gentle on him. ‘You want the guards to come running?’

‘Oh,’ Merlin panted, grinning dazedly up at his lord, ‘I think I could handle almost anything right now. Bring ’em on!’

‘Idiot,’ said Arthur fondly. And he shifted in closer to kiss him.

They lay there together, hot and damp and barely awake. Clinging heavily to each other.

‘Stay,’ said Arthur. ‘You’d better stay the night.’

‘Yes.’

‘If you want to. Of course.’

‘ _Yes_ , sire.’

‘You _do_ want to?’

Merlin opened one eye the bare minimum necessary to consider the prince. Arthur was bothering himself over something. But it had been a very long day, and they were both exhausted. ‘You worried you won’t fall asleep, Arthur?’

Arthur snuffled in a quiet laugh. ‘I’m halfway there already.’

‘Then fall the rest of the way, sire, and I’ll be right there with you.’

‘Yes,’ said Arthur. ‘Merlin… Merlin, I think that I…’

But he was gone. Merlin sighed a quiet smile, and followed his master down.

♦


End file.
